Mr Rabbit
by Threemessedupdudes
Summary: The Adventures of Mr Rabbit is the tale of a fluffy lovable rabbit and his friends who travel through the universe and involve themselves in the most curious of adventures :))))


The Adventures of Mr Rabbit 1: Oh Hell!

There once was a rabbit who had an STD called Super AIDS. Super AIDS was a disease so horrific it caused sneezes of saliva mixed together with water. One day,Mr Rabbit met Mrs Ox. He loathed himself because of his crippling depression, it was clinically terminal like his 16 other tumours the size of his head. Mrs Ox always laughed at his diseases. She never knew that Mr Rabbit was sleeping with her daughter's corpse as revenge. Mrs Ox had just found out that this was occurring so she ate his eyes. They tasted like strawberries, this was great for Mr Rabbit as now he would be able to die. Unfortunately for Mr Rabbit, Satan was walking by and did something so mind numbingly horrible, Mr Rabbit was glad he had no eyes. So what did Satan do? For starters, Mr Rabbit's ears were turned into snakes and his tumours exploded, just like Mrs Ox's brain inside her skull. Then, Satan gave Mr Rabbit a chilli pepper enema himself. And they all lived happily ever after. Except for Mr Rabbit who was crucified for crimes against humanity. And after two years was sent to hell. .

It didn't end well. Satan was tired of torturing Mr Rabbit so he sent him back to Earth. You'd think that Mr Rabbit would be happy about this BUT no, because he still had no eyes and was greeted by the zombie corpse of Mrs Ox's daughter." Come my love" she rasped "Who the hell said that?" Said Mr Rabbit. "I have no eyes to see". The daughter turned to him and kissed him with her mouth, which fell off. Mr Rabbit still had no eyes, but now he was able to have a mouth with which he could eat avocado. Why avocado you may ask? Because the acidic juice burned his lips and Mr Rabbit LOVES pain. He still kept the chilli pepper which was in his anus. Suddenly the police came and at the sight of Oxs daughter, ran her over and reversed over her corpse. Mr Rabbit heard this, and screamed in rage. The police proceeded to fire six shots into Mr Rabbit's toes, and now he has no toes. Mr Rabbit laughed at the pain and popped a tumour. Horrified, the police ran him over and shot him. Still laughing, they killed themselves. Why? Because they also liked pain. Everyone was pretty f***ed up, I mean even the writers. Especially the writers.

On the 2nd day of Christmas my true love gave to me a Rabbit's Ear. Mr Rabbit's ear. Mrs Ox was sitting at the edge of a snowy cliff praying about Christmas presents. But 'accidentally' Mr Rabbit burned and destroyed the presents because he was utterly sadistic like Hitler and Hillary Clinton. Mrs Ox proceeded to ram herself into a cliff until she exploded into gore. Mr Rabbit laughed until his throat was burnt like his anus that one time. Remember? Remember!?

Next morning after the breakfast of orphans aged in a cage, Mr Rabbit decided to pick the remains out of his dungeons with his rusty spork. That spork was laced with feces and cream. Yeah. Were going that far. Don't get offended you hypocrites. If you didn't like it you wouldn't have read this far. Also I did your mum last night. Back to the story. As well as the remains in his dungeons, he also ate Mrs Ox'. He smiled. Oh how he smiled. It's probably the broadest I've ever seen. The lips were tearing at the edges. Just imagine that for a second. It just goes to show. What does it show? You decide.

The Newest adventures of Mr. Rabbit

So here we go with this bulls**t again. Well, Mrs Ox is still alive and... not ... well... but that don't matter. We're confident she can still function with her innards hanging from her stomach. It's horrible but hey, at least they work. We think. The crows were at them for a while. Was that her spleen?! Nah you don't need a spleen. She won't notice anyway, what with her eyes gouged out and all. In comes Mr Rabbit still screeching in pain from that one enema. But it's a pain he enjoys. Those tears, they're of joy. Mrs Ox is terrified, as she's blind but hears ear shattering autistic screaming. She appears to be on her period but that could just be usual blood loss from her vital organs having been ruptured by Satan. Yeah we're making it that screwed up. Anyway back to the "story". As he tumbled around town, overwhelmed by pain he got ran over by Mr Moose. At first Mr Moose stopped the car, alarmed at what he had done. However when he saw it was Mr Rabbit he'd run over, he started to reverse. Several times. To the point poor old Mr Rabbit was a hamburger. Satisfied with the job done, Mr Moose got back in the car and picked up 70g of uncut heroin to celebrate in his way home. He ended up driving off the side of the road and turning into a worse pile of flesh than the Rabbit. However, with so much heroine circling through his bloodstream, this went unnoticed, and as his corpse was slowly immolated by the wreckage of his car, Mr Noose died a happy man. He even jizzed his pants. These sickos get a hell of a kick out of this kind of stuff.

So do we I guess.

Following the happy ending of Mr Moose, another joyous character named Sir Chlorox wandered along, cane in hand and coat tails rippling in the wind. He looked pretty gay. But of course that doesn't matter. Of course not. Hahahahahaha. Anyway he's walking down the street and spots Mr Moose. He faints. On a sharp piece of metal from the car. Sir Cholorox's monocle is useless against stainless steel, and as a foot of white hot shrapnel pierces his eye, his face goes as white as the bleach he's named after and actively drinks. These posh types are into some odd things. But as his flesh sizzles like a egg In Death Valley, he drew one last pentagram for his lord Cthulhu. The skies darkened as bloated clouds rolled over the sun, plunging the world into a grey waste. The cries of all the birds and the beasts died, and the seas heaved as if in pain. With a ear-rending screech that sent leaves falling from trees like so many corpses, a bolt of lightning, white hot and crackling with energy, scythed down like an avenging angel. It struck the pentagram, and Mr Cholrox's eyes filled with a wild joy as green witch-fire leapt across the charred and burnt earth,cavorting and capering maniacally. The clouds parted, and there was a deep silence, a silence that resonated in the very bones themselves, as the world waited for a day, a year, a decade. Then a trumpeting scream, a guttural, shrill sound never heard on this plane was heard, a scream of pain, exultation, and...joy. Cthulhu had answered the call. Cthulhu first wish was to possess poor old Mr Rabbit. Whom he forced to throw himself into the fiery abyss of hell to challenge the Dark Prince. Satan turned around, having heard the demented screeches of Mr Rabbit and slapped him so hard across the face his flesh melted off, softening the bone in his skull, allowing his brains to ooze outwards with chunks of it flying everywhere, his eyes glowed green and fell out of their sockets and hit each other like Conkers. The force ripped the sinew and muscle from his legs to tear and the blood vessels to rip,spurting blood in all directions, immensely pleasing the Prince. Somehow the Rabbit was still alive, empowered by the energy bestowed upon him by Cthulhu. However, his thirst had not yet been sated. Mr Rabbit turned to face the Dark Prince, bones shuddering twitching under his mangy fur. With a crack, they snapped back into place, his whole body jerking spasmodically as he healed. Mr Rabbit went into convulsions, twitching and jerking as his stomach heaved and he spewed out a torrent of blood and bile, more and more with each fresh wave. The flesh that had sloughed off his bones was knitting back together, raw muscle and sinew stretching over pale bones. With a sickening pop, his eyes retreated back into their sockets. Mr Rabbit stared at The Dark Prince, eyes flaring a ethereal green, his body while once more. Slowly, he wiped a smear of blood from his snout and grinned grotesquely.

"Ahh" he sighed. "That's better".

A crowd formed behind the possessed mammal and the King of Hell, chanting "Fight, fight, fight" enticing a battle between what was actually Cthulhu in the body of a not-so-cute-anymore bunny and Satan. Mr Rabbit hopped towards his foe screeching his battle cry whilst taking grabbing a car and smashing it in The Princes toes. Unscathed, Satan tore the car in half sending shrapnel in all directions. Mr Seal, who was peacefully minding his own business, raping Mr Penguin watched as a sharpened piece of steel cut his dick in half giving the bird enough time to escape. Mr a penguin lived out the rest of his day in a crack den, and eventually succumbed to alcohol poisoning after he drank too many beers while experiencing a PTSD flashback. But that's a story, for another day.

With a car door in hand, Satan beat the absolute s**t out of Mr Seal, for Mr Penguin had done several "favours" to The Prince in the past and Mr Penguin was his b**ch.

Noticing that Satan was distracted Mr Rabbit grabbed a bystander and threw it at Satan like a lawn dart. Mr Reindeer flew through the sky at the speed of a ballistic missile, his antlers spearing Satan through the chest and pin. As Satan was punctured in the stomach his intestines drooled out onto the muddy floor causing the agonising victim to deflate like flat tyre. Of course, slaying Satan isn't easy as that so as soon as his body melted and fizzed into a pile of putrid melting flesh a new one sprouted from the ground with fiery eyes and wielding a hellstone trident. With a savage bowl of exultation, he pierced Mr Rabbit through the back. With a blood curdling giggle, and a sickening crunch, Mr Rabbit's head turned 180 degrees, his knees snapping backwards and his spine twisting around.

Satan shat himself.

The pierced animal, grasped the trident's pole with his claw like hands and started to advance towards Satan himself. As he progressed along the shaft more and more of his bloody bowels were exposed to the open and wrapped around the weapon like a tentacle.

At last he took hold of Satans head and with a gut-wrenching crack Satan slumped to the ground. The flames dimmed as the Dark Princes body hit the ground, and Mr Rabbit stood over his vanquished foe. But suddenly, a piece of skin and cloth sloughed off Mr Rabbit, revealing the red arm band with an oddly familiar black pattern underneath. The townspeople gasped. Immediately after this revelation, a swarm of German Panzers surrounded the town, and in the distance the innocent inhabitants of this settlement recognised 20 German dive bombers armed with machine guns and bombs. As soon as the townspeople realised what was about to happen, it was already too late: mortars started to demolish the cathedral Mr Rabbit rose onto a platform fully dressed in an SS uniform-

Wait, wait wait. I know what you're thinking. They're going THAT far, really? There's no way it could get more messed up than Nazis. Ha! Buckle up kids. BUCKLE UP.

Ok, no we're not going to go any further than Nazis.

A BLIZZARD OF COCAINE SWEPT OVER THE CITY. THE LUFTWAFFE WAS DROPPING COCAINE DRIVING EVERYONE IN THE CITY INSANE. Ha! Fooled you.

Under the effect of such wonderful drug, the townspeople began inserting their phallic organs into the farm animals, even the women which for this specific event were all carrying huge big blacks dildos. It was a traditional town thing. You wouldn't understand. However the Nazi soldiers were also breathing in that delightful white powder and so started to succumb to its effects as well! They commenced raping the townspeople who were simultaneously raping the farm animals. The cocaine had mixed into the animals feed however, and with a squeal and a snort they turned on the Nazis, and raped them in turn as well. It was a complete circle now. Hundreds of townspeople, Nazis and farm animals were all raping each other, sweat everywhere, a constant loud rhythmic groaning and the ground itself shaking underneath as the cocaine coursed through their blood. Sadly, Mr Seal was left out and cried as he watched thousands perform his favourite hobby without him. Feebly, he tried to indulge in some self- asphyxiation, but all in vain. It just wasn't the same. Before him, the circle continued to revolve, faster and faster with every heave and thrust, blood and fluids lubricating the movements and despite all known laws of aviation the circular orgy began to lift in the air as nut screams and sounds like "Ja! Das ist gut Herr Komandant!", "Moo" and "YEEEEAAAAAHHHH" filled everybody's auditive organs. The party started to spin faster and faster lifting higher into the and suddenly it shot, into the skies above passing by the whirling clouds, the hewing whistling and rushing in their ears as the circle continued to spin, a blur, barely visible to the human eye. Clouds parted before them, their breaths coming in short, ragged bursts as the air grew thinner. The circle whirled by Heaven itself, angels clad in exquisite robes of pure white and brazen gold screaming in horror. They flew higher and higher, the sky turner darker as the atmosphere reached to zero then suddenly, the cries of pain ceased, they were in space.

Now, you're probably wondering, Where is ? It's been awhile since I last heard from him! Well, if you really want to know, he's having a devil's three way with a bull and a horse at the moment. Don't worry, he's having tons of fun.

I believe those cries are of joy.

After around 2 hours of spinning through the cosmos, passing right passed even the Kuiper Belt and that odd 9th planet all the scientists are raging on about (it's not much of a sight, it's just a fatter version of Jupiter) the orgy was turning at such speed that light around the circle would literally bend and the simple anatomies of the animals were just too "squishy" for the pull caused by the centrifugal force and it ended up tearing and ripping through every single animal resulting in a massive red cloud of blood, bone, sinew, muscle, all of that yummy stuff. However, one survived. Mr Rabbit, who with the sudden stop was hurled at 95% the speed of light and has now blacked out due to whatever he had ingested during this time in space, drugs, jizz, fluid, who knows? And is now dreaming about how lovely it would be to once again be burning in the darkest pits of hell whilst being tortured.

How his body was able to withstand such force? Well, his body was imbued with the Dark energy of Cthulhu and that combined with the metric s**t loads of heroin, cocaine and LSD his body had ingested, he had been able to hold together, barely, he did lose his penis however.

You might be feeling repelled, unclean, as if your soul itself will be barred from God just because you read this. You might want to burn your eyes out with bleach for even setting your gaze on this story. But then again you're still reading. This fucked up monstrosity is still going and you haven't turned away. Some of you twisted bastards even find it funny! We've said it before. You're all hypocrites. You're all in too deep. This story made you our b***h. You just can't turn away. Oh look! Here comes a black hole!

Mr Rabbit floated through the cosmos, the constellations and stars shining with ethereal brightness, a silvery sheen playing across his vacant gaze. Ice crystallised in his fur, crackling the cold ravaged his mangled body. He passed by a quasar, a searing beam of nuclear energy, a burning white that crisped and singed Mr Rabbits fur. And before him was the black hole, an incomprehensible horror, gaping open into infinity, an abomination, a tear in the fabric of time and space, an aberration that defied all the sanity of the human mind. Blackness was everywhere, oh such a hideous blackness that snatched and pulled and grasped at the astral beauty. Stars were pulled into it inexorably, reduced to strands of golden red light, as the hole stripped away their grandeur and their beauty until only the darkness remained. Mr Rabbit was dragged towards it, his dulled and diseased mind barely able to register the sight before him. In the background, the chords of David Bowie's Space Oddity played in the background, the soothing chords, notes and arpeggios blasting out into space as Bowie crooned in a voice that would make angels weep. It was pretty far out man.

"Ground control to Major Tom"

The black hole pulled at Mr Rabbit, his body trailing along into its yawning abyss.

"Ground Control to Major Tom."

With a flash of red energy, the star disappeared. There was nothing but silence, the cosmos whirling past, galaxies twisting and dancing amongst the universe.

"Take your protein pills, and put your helmet on."

Dim thoughts fluttered feebly in Mr Rabbits brain. His eyes took in the sights before him, as waves of light and dust floated by, a nebula twinkling softly as he was moved towards the hole.

And he's floating in a most peculiar way."

The hole stretched out the darkness, as if embracing Mr Rabbit like a old lover. The universe itself disappeared, the astral brilliance forgotten.

"Ground control to Major Tom.."

Mr Rabbit was sucked into the black hole like dust into a vacuum cleaner. As he was dragged into the abyss of darkness, a herd of infant humans from the future moving at a tremendous speed approached Mr Rabbit from behind. Mr Rabbit's body, already tattered from the previous incidents still held itself together, at least for now. Without much warning one of the baby youngsters who had been secluded from the pack; due to his horrendous face packed to the brim with hemorrhoids which oozed vaginal fluids, punctured Mr Rabbit's anus with such force that it was ripped in two. Despite the elevated speed at which this small human being in a space suit had been travelling he didn't manage to escape Mr Rabbit's overdosed body despite his desperate attempts to do so. And so duo composed by the repulsive baby from the future inside Mr Rabbit's corpse were finally spaghettified past the 'event horizon' and into an adjacent wormhole.

Where the actual f**k am I? All I remember…. was a little kid. Yes….. a smooth one too. Mr Rabbit exposed his eyes to the new dimension which he was now a part of. As he looked around he saw…. "ARE THOSE MINE?!" Mr Rabbit squealed in Rabbit language as he tried backing away from the ten dicks which were now a part of him.(I'd describe them but that's just gross so let's just go with: Any female would be pleased by them). Also, no. This isn't an effect of the heroin. Heroin blesses you with six dicks. Trust me. He smiled, a smile broader than the one he had when he was with those two children that one time, how he laughed at their decomposing carcasses. He smiled at the idea of now being able to have so many little children simultaneously at his mercy. Pleased at his respectable amount of dicks he finally took a look around him and spotted the same baby from before skewered onto a tree with its heart right on the end of the branch resembling a fruit and another branch having reached far into its anus coating the 2nd branch with rather unpleasant faecal matter. Oh how Mr Rabbit would love to be in the trees position. If it weren't for his 2 destroyed legs he would've long taken that child out of the tree however definitely not taking him out of his misery (in fact Mr Rabbit would most likely be exacerbating things).

The Rabbit painfully heaved himself up and turned around in order to be able to drag himself and his 10 dicks which now multiplied the mass of his body by three times. He reached for a nearby rock and proceeded to continuously smash the rock into his broken legs to break them back into shape, it was painful sure I can barely imagine what it felt like but as you may recall one of Mr Rabbits greatest pleasures in life is when he causes self-harm. He's been known to even orgasm during these scenes of auto brutality. But now, he was able to pick himself up and stand once more and as he did he noticed 10 sexy ass MOTHERF***ING RABBITS HOLY CRAP THEY'RE HOT he thought. He now ran as if his life depended on this moment, they were so close, he laughed maniacally as he approached them due to his massive testicles continually bouncing off his knees. At last, he arrived and proceeded to-

The following scene has been removed from the novel for the sake of human decency.

However, just as our hero reached climax with all dicks at once they all started to swell up simultaneously until the skin could no longer retain any more blood under the immense pressure. It was at this point that Mr Rabbit saw the end approaching and then all at once the ten dicks burst causing blood, faecal matter, and sexual fluids to fly in all directions. As you might have noticed before, Mr Rabbit had a special endurance and ability to survive, this occasion was no exception. And so Mr Rabbit's neurons began to crawl into the baby's agonising body. After several gruesome hours of reincarnation, Mr Rabbit managed to adopt and fix the baby's body into an acceptable state of sight.

" .beautiful " he rasped as he gazed upon his creation. Tears were brimming in his eyes. No longer was he confined in the body of a measly Rabbit. Now he was human, able to do things he could have never done before. He began to howl with laughter, as he contemplated all his last hardships. Cthulhu, Satan, black holes, that b***h Mrs Ox, he had beat them all. He had beat them all! And now he had risen anew, better, stronger than before. He would remake the world in his image, the whole world would feel his presence. His enemies had fallen and crumbled like rotten leaves in a sudden breeze. There was only RABBIT..

Mr Rabbit once again woke to a new world but this time, everything was different, everything smelt like decaying waste or rotting food, he had appeared to have lost his eyesight again (remember when the Mrs. Ox ate his eyes? That was fun.) but he felt cushioned, as if he were sitting on plastic bags. "W-w-w-where am I?" The Rabbit pondered as he worried that his true and final form had finally been reached. Don't worry he still has his baby form, not as cute though. He finally realised that he was actually inside a dumpster. Mr Rabbit crawled out of the dumpster and was finally able to see the light again and breathe, it was a hard one though, similar to that of a malformed abortion. As he peered out from the top of what to him appeared to be an oversized dumpster he noticed he was in an alleyway in Brixton. Mr Rabbit hauled himself off and jumped, it was a long jump but off course, since it's our her were talking about he didn't mind, Mr Rabbit was brave. Suddenly his stop was fallen and he rose a tad bit in the end as if were jumping from a bungee chord of course, Mr Rabbit had no idea what a bungee cord was but you, my loyal reader do so, whatever. He looked up and noticed he was hanging from his own umbilical cord, stretched taut as he hung a inch from the ground he screamed in horror as he realised what had happened. He wasn't similar to a malformed abortion. He WAS the malformed abortion. (Dun dun DUUN). With a snap like a whip the umbilical cord snapped , flying through the air, and Mr Rabbit fell to the hard concrete, his teeth meeting the pavement, where they sprayed everywhere, the little white bones pattering and rolling across the floor, where a rat promptly carried them off. That's Brixton for ya.

Of course this only served to make Mr Rabbit more vomit inducingly hideous but after all that had happened to him this was by far the least of his problems. He was naked, covered in blood and placenta, with no teeth and far more chromosomes than should be good for you. And stuck in the middle of Brixton. Wow. Never thought I would ever be forced to write that sentence, but here I am, chained to a desk In sweat shop in North Korea with a gun at my head, doing just that.

Mr Rabbit staggered uneasily to his feet, his stunted legs struggling to handle the weight of the rest of his body. His neck was aching painfully, as his weak spine supported his slightly over large head. He rubbed his eyes once,twice and with a gasp realised he could see, albeit with a incessant twitch from his left eyelid. He looked around taking this new world in, and pondered how he had arrived into this situation. What kind of underfunded, shitty, derelict and decrepit healthcare would just throw a failed abortion into the trash? He looked up at the building from where he had been thrown, and saw a faded sign reading NHS. Well, that explained everything. Hah. Got political on your ass for a second.

There was a flicker of red as a match was light behind him. Mr Rabbit turned in bewilderment, and saw a man leaning against a wall nonchalantly. He was wearing a stained and weather beaten brown trench coat, covered in stains of alcohol and booze. He reeked of a mixture of cheap tobacco and stale liquor. A red tie hung loosely from his neck, draped across his smudged white shirt. He had a layer of coarse stubble across his cheeks, and short, spiky blonde hair that fell across his eyes. His yellow, nicotine stained nails grasped a cigarrete . He drew in deeply and let out a cloud of smoke. Mr Rabbit was more confused by the second. The man moved his hand slightly and muttered something incomprehensible under his breath. There was a flash of light and Mr Rabbit felt himself grow slightly stronger, more full of life. A suit of clothes crumpled by his feet. Mr Rabbit gasped in bewilderment. "H-h-how?"

"Persian charm of appearance" shrugged the man. He put out the cigarette on the wall, sending ash skittering to the ground and smirked. "Bastard like you deserves all the help he can get. Just this once though mate. Don't want folks thinking ol John Constantine's got a heart of gold all of a sudden." And with one last petulant smirk, he drew the trench out round his shoulder and walked off down the alleyway,

Authors Note:

"You think they got the reference? Eh? Eh?"

"I don't think anyone still reading at this point is smart enough to get the reference"

"Yeah, you're probably right"

8 YEARS LATER

Mr Rabbit looked at himself in the mirror. He was an eight year old child now, a child whose face resembled a pug combined with a bruised watermelon and an old avocado. He went by the name Roy Bit these days, or as the kids in school called him ,"that fucking demented spastic". Hah. Children. I remember year 4 too. Baaad times. Roy tightened the small crucifix around his neck. Though plagued daily by incessant back pains and blinding headaches, the words that the strange comic book reference had told him still rang in his ears. "Bastard like you deserves all the help he can get" the man had said. And he had been right. And so, Roy had found help in our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. He was still f**k-ugly though. He straightened his shirt, combed what little hair he had over his head which grew from the only non-burnt area of his head, and set off for the chapel at a brisk trot, eager to cleanse his soul, and meet the new Reverend that had flown in especially from Dublin to cleanse and bring holy harmony to their little community. How happy Roy was to finally meet this rather curious character. The first time he visited the Lord's place, he was warmly welcomed by one of the tattered homeless old beggars. This poor old character was slouching on the grey bird shit covered stairs of the grimy ancient church reeking of a composition of dog sperm, bird diarrhea and honey badger blood.

Father o'leary smiled serenely as Roy walked into the Church, taking in its cavernous aura, and regaling in the sheer magnitude of the faith that encompassed his surroundings. Father O'Leary was tall and gangly, thin, but not so that it was overly apparent. His head shone, slicked back with cheap perfumed oils, and his eyes twinkled and glittered with mischief and laughter. His hands were clasped together over the long flowing robe he wore, perfectly smoothed and a deep, rich black. He continued smiling, his pearl like teeth glinting as Roy approached him.

"Hello there little one" said Father O'Leary, spreading his arms in a gesture of happiness. "What brings ye to our humble place of worship this evening?"

Roy shuffled his feet nervously. "I-I wanted to talk to you Father".

Father O'Leary raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Talk to me?". His face was lit with a hungry glow.

"In private please" added Roy. Father O'Leary rubbed his hands together excitedly. "In private?" he was nodding slowly. "Oh I'm sure we'll have a very fun time". He began to gently caress Roy's shoulders, running his hands slowly along his clothes. "Yes, yes, a boy like you should be able to trusts in me". His palm stopped mere inches away from Roy's breast, so close he could feel the warm pulses emanating from the flesh. Father O'Learys eyes seemed to glaze over, as he spoke in a dazed voice. " Such a strong, pretty boy…" he tailed off and gazed into the distance.

"I don't think I shall be able to have much fun Father" admitted Roy in a hushed tone. He looked down at his feet in shame, voice becoming quiet and nervous. "I have sinned Father. I have committed grievous and heinous sins, and I seek your help to punish me justly for my crimes."

A bead of sweat ran down Father O'Learys head. "P-punish you?" He croaked weakly. There was a flash of red as his tongue flickered across his lips.

"Yes Father. Punish me harshly for my impudence. Punish me."

Father O'Leary began to fan himself with his hand. He seemed extremely uncomfortable, and tugged frantically at the collar of his robe. The room had suddenly seemed to become a lot hotter, and his robes itched dreadfully.

He straightened them hurriedly, and mopped the sweat from his brow. "V-very well my child" he said, hands twitching spasmodically.

Roy stepped into a dark room, lit only by the feeble flame of a candle that buttered and sparked as the wind snatched as it. The door slid shut with barely a creak, the latches screeching in protest as they were bolted shut. Roy kissed the cold metal of his crucifix, and began to pray. "Very well Father O'Leary" he said, voice calm and assured with his faith. "I am re-"

From behind him there came a sound like silk tearing. Roy turned in surprise, only to see Father O'Leary standing before him, clad in nothing but a leopard print thong, a bottle of virgin olive oil in one hand as he lathered the white fuzz of his chest hair.

Roys eyes bulged out from his socket in surprise. He took a tentative step back, looking around the room frantically.

"F-father O'Leary?"

Father O'Leary ignored him, and began zipping on a matte black gimp mask, a crucifix worked onto its forehead in gold. He began to pull out a long belt of cured leather, studded viciously with iron studs. Roy choked back a scream, and began to rattle the doorknob frantically, the wood bulging outwards and rattling as he struck it again and again. All in vain, the iron latches remaining impassive and unbreakable. From behind him Father O'Leary began to hum a Hail Mary, his reedy voice quavering and breaking with excitement.

With a scream of desperation, Mr Rabbit threw himself headlong through the stained glass window, the shards biting and scraping against his skin, as it shattered with a ear splitting crash. Pieces of crystalline window smashed against the road as Mr Rabbit hit the cobbles, the air driving out from his lungs in one whoosh. From behind him he could hear the wails and cursing of Father O'Leary. Scarce daring to wait, he tore up the road, air burning in his lungs as breaths came out of him in ragged whooshes. He scrambled forward,heart pounding in his chest, hammering against his ribs. At least he was safe, he thought, he had avoided all danger, everything was fine-

And then he turned the corner, and saw the clowns.

They stood in a pack, garish and vivid clothing so colorful and patches it hurt the eye to look at. They turned in perfect unison, rubber balloons held tightly in gloved hands, dark eyes shining with gleeful malice staring out from behind a horrific mask of white greasepaint and makeup, smiles stretched thin over pearl white teeth, leering lips of crimson red touching the corners of saggy cheeks. There was a deep, unsettling silence, punctuated by slight giggles and high pitched chuckles, and the occasional garish honk of a horn. The day seemed to grow darker, as the clowns frizzy hair quivered in anticipation.

The first clown, a gaunt, emaciated figure spoke in a childish, rasping voice.

"Why hello there little fellow?" the clown said, leering. "Do you want to play?"

The rest of the clowns began to laugh, shrieking in derision, in a cacophony of horrendous mirth.

An outside viewer, if he happened to pass by Pennywise Avenue, would have seen a small, ugly child, bundled hurriedly into a ridiculously small, bright yellow clown car, painted with sickeningly saccharine images of fun and play. He would have also seen more than thirty clowns follow the boy into the car, cramming in impossibly into its small confines. The viewer, by now traumatized irreparably and asking if there truly was a God, would have noted in shock as the car began to shake viciously, rocking back and forth as whoops of glee and honks of horns rang out from its confines, punctuated now and then by the sound of a whipped cream pie splitting against flesh.

As the car stuttered sporadically down the streets the brakes shrieked in despair. As satan's vehicle proceeded through its journeys a stench emerged from it almost as if escaping the horrors confined in that miniature version of hell. Simultaneously a gooey opaque fluid began to ooze through the minuscule spacing of the doors.

I feel there is no need to specify precisely where this fluid came from.

But in the course of a few seconds the tables turned radically. Oh how the tables turned, the innocent molested child began to churn and his bones creaked as they doubled in size. The clowns' extremities which found themselves in the creatures holes were mercilessly ripped off and engulfed never to be seen again. The laughs turned into shrieks, the scented air turned into corrosive acid emitted by the wounds and the goo became thick red blood. The power that had once been bestowed upon him long ago by the Great Old One, Cthulhu had been awoken. Roy's frame continued to grow uncontrollably pressing heavily against the insides of the car until the metal gave way and burst the car open, initially sending foot-long scraps of metal flying in every direction and a second later the compressed and bloody carcasses of the demented clowns. With their innards spread across the pavement the creature which had once been Roy proceeded to vigorously jam the gut-wrenching pile of tissue and bone down his impossibly large gullet. Blood and gore dribbling down the sides of his mouth, eyes aglow with witch fire, he heaved his body out of the wreckage. As he moved, he continued to grow, spine arching, flesh bubbling and bones cracking and splitting as they protruded from his flesh. Sharp, serrated claws burst from his fingers, and a coarse weave of fur spread across his whole body. With two soft pops, giant ears protruded from his skull. In the middle of the road, there now stood a enormous, anthropomorphic rabbit, muscles rippling and bulging, as filed teeth crammed into a enormous mouth dripped and oozed with tendrils of saliva. With a bestial scream of rage, a howl that shattered glass and sent birds wheeling from the skies, Mr Rabbits hands closed around a nearby car, lifting it with childlike ease. Fingers dug harshly into the metal, and with a small grunt, he heaved the car in the direction of the church. It flew through the air, crumpling against the incredible speed at which It had been thrown.

The child sniffled, drawing a bead of snot back into his nose. He coughed softly, a weak, pained cough, and looked up imploringly, eyes swimming with tears.

"I'm sick Father. Can you make me better please?"

Father O'Leary grinned inwardly to himself, and chuckled with triumph. His fingers found the box of very...special pills he kept in his pocket. Faded lettering along its side could almost be made out. "Rohypnol".

"I may have just the thing-" began Father O'Leary, and screamed in terror as a Volvo burst through the stained glass window.

The car landed with a shriek, cracking the floor, and bounced once, twice, three times, taking Father O'Leary with him and pulverizing his body into a bloody pulp, leaving smears of O'Leary streaked against the floor.

Authors Note:

"See? We killed a pedo. That's a good thing. Were still good people

Ummm..just a few paragraphs ago you had him raped by thirty clowns.

It was necessary for the advancement of the plot!

Dude, did you take your pills toda-

I SAID IT WAS NECESSARY.

And as the grotesque monster bounds across the city, as its inhuman screech of bestial rage bounces off the buildings, as cars are crumpled underneath its feet, human's plucked from the cobbles and torn apart in fountains of gore and viscera, bones ground and mulched between teeth like tombstones, as panicked screams pass from ear to ear, and phones whir and beep discordantly, the message, the plea for help sent out, turn your eyes far away, to the arid expanse of the American desert.

See the red, searing rock spearing out to scratch the heavens, the wind blowing the coarse and burning sand across a bleached and lifeless plateau. And let your eyes fall on the concrete walls, the chain link fences, manned by stony faced guards clutching high powered weaponry, and the striped flag waving over the rooftops, of a U.S army base currently holding many angry, scared and very confused military men.

"What in the fucken hell is happening out there?!" bellowed General Roosevelt Dwight, his round face growing puce, as his impressive mustache bristled.

Corporal James Rodney shuffled his notes nervously, gulped wetly and adjusted his small wire glasses.

"Well, umm, sir, general, we're getting reports of a, umm, attack, sir" he stammered.

"An attack?!" Roared General Dwight, raising an eyebrow. "Who by, son? I bet my left ass cheek it's those damn commies" he growled.

Rodney shifted uncomfortably, ignoring the whoop of the sirens behind him. "N-not exactly the communists sir" he began.

"Well, son, who is it? Spit it out, fuckin ell!" demanded General Dwight.

Rodney tried not to meet the General in the eye, as he stared firmly at the reports.

A bead of sweat ran down his nose.

"Ummm...a..rabbit, sir". He laughed nervously, tailing off into a squeak.

"A rabbit. A rabbit?! Tell me boy are you out of your daaaaamn mind!" Howled General Dwight, his eyes bulging.

Rodney gave a giggle, his eye beginning to twitch sporadically.

"Aha, yes, ah, umm, rabbit sir" he said. "Big. Furry. Long ears." He fumbled for the remote of the projector, and put the blurred but all too horrific image of Mr Rabbit on screen. General Dwight jumped a foot in the air, eyes nearly popping out of his skull.

"Jeeeeesus Mary Joseph, lord in heaven, what in the name of the almighty Ronald Reagan is that ?!" He hollered.

"W-we don't...know" stammered Rodney, clenching his fist to stop the twitch beginning to develop. His nerves were beginning to fray. He could take screaming taliban, bloodthirsty guerilla warriors, impending nuclear holocausts and even Lieutenant Andys wife on her period, but nothing came close to the strain of General Dwight's singularly republican mindset.

"God damn, that's a big son of a bitch" whistled General Dwight. "I say it wants to fuck us up the ass, we stick our wangs right up its ass crack till its coughing up spunk, what do you say?"

Rodney winced. "Very poetic sir"

"Hmmmph. Wasn't meant to be poetic. Only fags, queers and gays are poetic".

"Umm..I'm pretty sure they're all the same thing"

"Don't matter, says it in the Good Book, theys wrong anyhow"

"Sir...the rabbit?"

Dwight grunted. " Oh yeah. I say we make it swallow a big fat load of nuclear missiles, send it all to hell. We would have done that gainst the Japs. I 'member when our boys hit Nagasaki"-a tear of joyful reminiscent glistened and ran down to pool in his mustache-"damn, we made Rice Krispies years before Kellogg's even did" he sighed wistfully.

"Sir!" Gasped Rodney incredulously. "You're not allowed to say that!"

"Oh, stop bein' such a pussy" snorted Dwight, slapping him on the back and sending the already shaky rollercoaster of sanity plunging closer to the drop, "Can't abide all these democrats and lib-tards running around, like a bunch of feminists ". He said the word in the same way someone would say "serial child rapist".

"They need to go out to the I-rak and fight them towelheads, learn how to be a real Merican, try to dodge one of them suicide vests. Say, know what the difference between a feminist and a suicide vest is Rodney?"

Rodney sighed. "A suicide vest actually accomplishes something when it's triggered" he chorused wearily.

General Dwight nodded happily. "Good. You're learning. Now, about them missiles.."

"Look sir, forget the missiles, because we can't take that kind of responsibility, and I have enough stress as it is. Because you talk about launching nukes, whilst I have to sit here, and order these weapons of death to be launched, and stand there whilst the world goes up in flames, and go home, and look at the picture of Jane and how beautiful she is, and how you'll never have her, and then you run a bath but the power cuts out before the toaster hits the water, and you go back to work and get screamed at and then the beam above the bed can't support a humans weight and just as you focus on that gorgeous smile, that lovely chestnut hair, the rope snaps, and, and...I'm still talking.." Rodney trailed off, dug his nails into his palm, and took a deep breath. " No missiles sir."

"Buuuuulshit" scoffed General Dwight. "Missiles it is."

Rodney slumped, defeated. "Now where's the science man?" asked Dwight.

"Dr Ronaldo is waiting to see us. He's been flown all the way from Argentina."

"Send him in".

A old man tottered into the room, leaning against a wooden cane. His clothing was black and elegant, a thin bespectacled face framed by a mane of white hair.

"Ahhhh, Dr Ronaldo" said General Dwight, saluting. Ronaldo saluted back, raising his arm ramrod straight and clicking his heels before hurriedly transitioning into the traditional salute. He laughed nervously.

"General Dwight, so good to see you" he said.

"Good to have a man like you in charge of the team. Sorry to call you on such short notice, Dr Kramer couldn't make it from Berlin, you know how it is there."

"B-Berlin?" Ronaldo's eyes darted frantically from left to right. He licked his lips and smiled painfully. "Oh, I can't say anything about Berlin, I'm afraid I've.. never been".

"Wouldn't bother. Nothing better than the old U,S of A, hail America!" Declared Dwight. "Yes, heil América, I mean, hail América" stammered Ronaldo.

"Anyway, the new missiles are primed and ready for use. Each warhead is loaded with weapons grade enriched uranium, can cross the world in under five minutes!"

Dwight clapped his hands together like a child at Christmas. "Oooh, I just can't wait!"

"Yes, General Dwight here is more enthusiastic than most, as-" began Rodney, only to stop as Ronaldo shrieked and threw himself behind a chairs quivering.

"Mossad? Where?!" He shrieked, looking around in terror, hands growing white as they clutched the chair. "They've found me, oh god!"

Rodney raised an eyebrow. "Ummm..no, I was saying, most as, and then..that happened. Is everything okay?"

Dr Ronaldo righted himself, brushing the dust off his clothes and composing himself. "Oh,n-nothing, just...a spasm" he laughed nervously. "I have nothing against the Mossad, very respectable, cheating, swindling, filthy, sub humans, zat are not fit to valk zis ea-oh, my accent is slipping" he giggled.

Dwight ignored him. "So, you science types got a lock on this rabbit thing?"

"Oh yes mein-my General, all the coordinates have been triangulated, calculated, all is in order."

"Awwwright" grinned Dwight, settling back into his chair. He planted a booted foot onto the table and grunted in satisfaction as a pungent fart thundered across the room. Rodney rolled his eyes.

"Siiiiir" he complained. Dwight flipped him the bird.

"Don't sweat it son, bit of gas never killed nobody"

There was a bark of laughter from Dr Ronaldo, who clapped one hand hurriedly over his mouth. "Sorry," he said, apologetically. He smiled weakly. "I was...thinking of a funny joke."

Dwight lit himself a enormous cigar, trailing a cloud of noxious and pungent smoke. Rodney tried not to choke.

"Now" declared Dwight, "lets see those there missiles."

The General tramped down the corridor, his booted feet thud, thud, thudding against the cheap floor, as Rodney scrambled behind him, trying to keep up, shuffling crablike as he frantically tried to keep a hold on the piles of paper in his hands.

"Ah, umm, third door on the right, General, but, uhh, the Technician has been given express orders not to be disturbed"

"And I'm givin' you a express order to shut the fuck up" growled Dwight. Rodney sighed. They came upon the door, and Rodney went to knock, only for Dwight to kick it open savagely with one booted foot.

The door swung wildly on its hinges, as the Technician hurriedly swept the bottle of lotion from the table, scrambled to his feet and hurriedly pulled his trousers up from around his waist, blushing furiously. One hand fumbled at the mouse of the enormous computer, the screen yawning out against an entire wall, but the image had already frozen. The Technician saluted sharply, gulping.

"General Dwight, what is the meaning of this visits, sir?!"

"Rodney tried not to look too hard at the frozen image.

"Checking up on the nukes, Technician!," barked General Dwight. "Now, care to explain who the hell that lady on the screen is?"

The Technicians face flushed a deep red, as he tried to burrow himself deep into his chair.

"Ummm...Mia Khalifa, sir?"

"Khalifa! God damn it man, she some kind of yihadi spy? A agent from the I-rak?" bellowed General Dwight.

"Ah, not, exactly sir" stammered the Technician. "It was...surveillance".

"Surveillance! Good job man! These towelheads gotta be watched all times, you never know when they're going to strike next. Bunch of kids like this...Khalifa, all they do is swallow their heathen propaganda-"

"She certainly does swallow " muttered Rodney.

"What was that, Corporal?!"

"Nothing, sir"

"She's clearly a haji, " scoffed Dwight in disgust. "Suicide bomber, I can spot them from a mile away" he spat violently. "Looks like they're planning a hell of a attack, will you look at the size of those bombs strapped to her chest!"

(Behind him, Rodney buried his face in his hands)

The Technician grinned sheepishly. "Yes, very big, sir".

Dwight waved his hand dismissively. "We'll worry about the goat fuckers later. Now, get those missiles up, lad!"

The Technician sprang back to the keyboard gratefully (his pants still around his ankles). Fingers danced across the surface, as the plan of the missiles was brought up, showing the Cold, deadly weapons of annihilation, specks glowing a menacing, dull red where they were marked on the map.

"Missiles are ready in their silos, sir. Waiting to be primed."

"Begin".

The Technician stooped over the keyboard, whirls and clicks accompanying his work. There was a soft hiss as a jet black panel slid back, revealing a single, red button encased in a cube of toughened glass. The Technician pulled a lever, and the panel stopped. The button stood there, a plain, almost childish thing. But never had something so simple held so much dreadful power, weapons capable of raining hellfire and death down on those below, of blighting the world in a nuclear holocaust, encased behind a sheet of glass.

"Gentlemen, your keys" announced the General. Shaking with terror, Rodney pulled out the single metal key strapped to his neck. The Technician and Dwight did the same. The keys slid into three slots smoothly, and turned with a thunk. There was a clack, and the glass swung open. The button was exposed.

General Dwight strode forward, mustache quivering with excitement.

"S-sir. It's not too late to change your mind" stammered Rodney. "Are you sure?"

General Dwight looked Rodney in the face, and Rodney saw the flames or rockets reflected in his eyes.

His finger stabbed downwards.

All around the world, in underground bunkers, in submarines navigating the black fathoms of the deep, sirens wailed and hooted, screeching in alarm, lights flashing red as the order was relayed, operators screaming down their telephones at each other, soldiers and generals screaming for answers, screaming out orders. There was a lot of screaming. Phone lines and messaging boards became clogged, thousands of streams of information buzzing from place to place, fax machines spewing out papers. A hundred such buttons were pushed, releasing the rockets from their silos, from bunkers in the desert, missiles thundered out, scorching the wind blasted turf. In stations high up in desolate mountains, birds burst from the trees, cawing, as the flames of the rockets calcinated the ground, and the air was full with the roar of death. The Washington Monuments tip swung open, as a nuke whistled out of it (what did you think it was for, decoration?). Nukes in the air, nukes powering through clouds and the heavens themselves. A hundred nukes, suspended in the Cold, frigid, empty expanse of space, sunlight gleaming against their polished hulls, as a hundred flames sputtered and died. And then, as one, the nukes fell, fell towards earth. And towards the rabbit.

Mr Rabbit found himself strolling down a tranquil Japanese bonsai park, occasionally raping defenseless women dressed in silky delicate pink kimonos. However this gigantic creature was disappointed to find out that his sexual organs were too massive to be pleased by petit Japanese dames. The rabbit channeled the boiling blood into his frothing brain and came up with the ultimate solution. He lied down with the small smooth stream between his legs and inserted his joystick through a bridge. The fungi together with the pleasant and massaging water brought him to cum during record time.

As an astounding volume of green sperm, which very much resembled wet and overcooked spinach, was ejaculated onto the neatly kept garden.

Mr Rabbit, despite the unique experience he had recently underwent, felt uncomfortable. His brow began to twitch and his nostrils widened. His lips swelled up as he tasted resembling odor in the sweet air. It struck him like a bag of bricks should strike all pregnant women pleading for abortion. Bombs were approaching. Last time this had happened it had been in 45, he had been mercilessly crushed, his skin had peeled off leaving behind an exposed layer of pink bloody flesh. But not today, he had been modifying his genetics for decades, he was now the only organism in the universe who could feed on nuclear waste. He had spent the previous years scavenging for buried nuclear waste and consuming it through a funnel which he precariously balanced on the opening of his anus.

He ripped his filthy shirt, the buttons flew in all directions at frightful speeds. The rabbit flexed his biceps and his chest, this compression of muscles made him increase in size. He grew at least 3 meters taller, as we all know all privileges come with a price, consequently his previously record breaking penis began to shrink and shriveled up like a cactus stranded in the driest of deserts.

With a grunt, Mr Rabbit looked upwards, as the missiles descended, screaming into his path. He tensed, muscles bunching up and coiling in his legs, and Mr Rabbit leapt, the cobbles underneath him cracking as he sprang hundreds of feet into the air, a crack like a whip sounding out as he burst the sound barrier. One massive furry fist closed around the length of the first missile, as easily as if it was a child's toy, and he hurled it downwards out of his path. He batted the second one away, as if bothered by a mere insect, only for the third to punch him in the chest.

Mr Rabbit hit the ground, as did the missile. The resulting explosion was heard throughout the world, waves of heat and flame devouring everything in their path, consuming, tearing. Rays of nuclear energy burrowed through concrete, steel melted, glass shattered, trees were stripped bare as hurricane force winds swept the land. A column of fire, of death, rose into the air, a macabre mushroom cloud, bloated with radiation that crawled across the heavens. The Japanese people, having grown used to this kind of thing, shrugged, resigned to their fate, with some of the more enterprising victims taking the time to download one last video of shemale schoolgirl Hentai before their atoms were blasted apart, and they shuffled from the mortal coil.

After a while, the smoke cleared. Nothing remained. Buildings that had withstood centuries were gone, reduced to pathetic heaps of rubble. Not a living thing could be heard, the ground seared and cracked, the air itself clogged with toxicity and burning. Foul, black clouds rolled across the sky, vomiting hails of acid rain that hissed as they struck the mangled and twisted remains of civilisation. Streams had dried, trees reduced to ash, shadows of the victims burned for eternity onto the walls, some still jacking one off in the face of total annihilation.

The crater in what had once been the bonsai garden would have made the Marianas Trench look like a sandpit. It gaped hideously, kilometres deep, the virgin earth desecrated and torn to shreds by the unstoppable power of nuclear weaponry.

Nothing could have survived that blast. Nothing human.

A enormous brown hand, fingers the size of Buick's grasping out, skin mottled with weeping wounds and charred, seared flesh from nuclear burns was pierced by ridges of harsh bone, clutched at the edge of the crater. And Mr Rabbit pulled himself out.

The nuclear blast had been a blessing. The atoms, the energy had ravaged his body, coursing through his blood, retiring genes, rewriting his DNA, running rampant as they rewrote the genetic code, unlocking new evolutionary pathways.

A….figure strode out amidst the ruins, easily as tall as the mighty skyscrapers that just moments ago had dotted the landscape. A chest as wide a Boeing 747 heaved, ridged with writhing veins, and muscles rippling and tightening as he breathed out, the very air from his lungs burning with the tang of uranium. His back was hunched over, bone jutting out from the flesh where it had grown faster than skin or muscle. Two arms hung at either side, tipped with serrated and jagged claws. His face bulged with tumours, oozing with pus and throbbing against his fur. A wide, mishap pen jaw housed fangs like towers, and two eyes, glowing a dull, poisonous green looked out at the world.

Mr Rabbit threw back his head, and roared.

" Well," said General Dwight after a while. "This is a ..complication".

The military room was in absolute chaos. Rodney's nerves had reached the breaking point, and he was currently guzzling down a cup full of pills in a futile attempt to calm his nerves, whilst spilling coffee all over his shirt. His eye had begun to twitch uncontrollably, and he was having trouble breathing.

"Complication?" He squeaked. "Complication! It's a giant, fucking Rabbit monster that took seven nukes to the chest like it was nothing!" He screamed.

"Well, I want to know what the hell it is" grumbled General Dwight. He turned to the Technician. "Bring up an image of that there Rabbit thing" he barked.

The Technician nodded, and booted up the screen. An image of a nude woman with enormous breasts, lathering herself with oil was hastily replaced by live camera footage of Mr Rabbit. General Dwight pushed his cap out of his eyes, and swore softly.

"Enhance" he ordered. The Technician complied, the camera zooming in.

"Do we know if it's a alien? Male? Female?" asked General Dwight.

The Technician screened in on Mr Rabbits crotch area. There was a fresh wave of screams from the assembled soldiers. Behind Rodney, a corporal fainted, whilst a lieutenant fell to his knees and began to pray.

General Dwight made the sign of the cross. "So...can... where the fuck is it from?" asked Rodney, his voice strained and high pitched. The Technician shrugged. "We still haven't ruled out if it's an alien" he suggested. General Dwight shook his head.

"Only aliens I know come over the wall in Mexico" he stated firmly. "Nah, that there's a mutation".

"A mutation?"

" Yeah. Radiation fucks with their body, messes up their genes"

"I know, but I always assumed mutations had..you know, a couple extra chromosomes kicking round, tend to wear helmets, bump into walls a lot, eat their own shit, that kind of thing."

There was a cough from behind them. They turned, to see Dr Ronaldo.

"If I may comment" he said, "it seems that from the little information we have gathered, the nuclear energy has transformed a simple garden Rabbit into the pinnacle of evolution. It has elevated it into superiority, transformed it into the perfect being."

The Technician whistled. "Boy doc, you sure know a lot about master races" he said.

Dr Ronaldo chuckled bitterly "Yes, you could...say I do. Anyway, to make a long story short, the Rabbit feeds on radiation, on energy. We can not kill it by normal means".

"Mazeltov" said Rodney bitterly. Dr Ronaldo shuffled as far away as possible away from him, shooting him a dirty look.

General Dwight slammed one fist down onto the table.

"So how in the hell do we kill the damn thing!" He roared, (Rodney fumbled for a fresh bottle of pills).

Dr Ronaldo smiled. "Oh, we do not kill it. Our scientists detected this..Rabbit came to our earth through a...temporal displacement. We have developed a weapon capable of sending it back through the time stream."

General Dwights eyes widened. "My God. That's fucken increadible. You're telling me we can send it back through time?!"

"Why, yes herr-I mean-Mr Dwight"

Dwight shook his head incredulously. "Imagine the possibilities! Sending something back through time! You could stop wars, end famines, go back and kill Hitler-"

"Now, let's not get ahead of ourselves" laughed Ronaldo nervously.

"So, when can we start using it?"

"Immediately. But, I'm afraid the weapon has only one use. Either we use it on the Rabbit, or nothing else."

"And if we don't use it on the Rabbit?"

"Then, he destroys the entire world". Rodney gave a strangled laugh, and then passed out. Dwight kicked him unceremoniously into the corner.

"Very well" he said, tugging on his spectacular moustache. "Then, the machine it is". He turned towards the Technician. "Get me a phone, quick!"

The Technician saluted, as he tore a nearby cupboard open. A pile of DVDs cascaded onto the floor, showing images including barely clothed young ladies dressed as nuns, Japanese animated schoolgirls in cat costumes, ladies in figure hugging leather bound and gagged to beds, one or two dressed as clowns and slapping cream pies on their flesh (get it? Get it?), teenagers in bikinis licking phallic objects, a blonde in full SS uniform, a black cassette labelled only "Destructor" and women without a stitch of clothing pleasuring each other.

There was a long silence as they stared at the Technician, who quietly scooped up the DVDs. The silence continued, eyes following the Technician across the room, as he silently opened a drawer, and stuffed the DVD's inside. Behind him, someone coughed. Veeeeeery slowly, he closed the drawer. He pulled out a key. He locked the drawer. He turned around. You could have heard a pin drop. He went to grab the phone, and seemed to change his mind. He grabbed his computer, and dropped it hurriedly in the bin. From behind the room there was a sneeze. He pulled out a box of matches and struggled to pull out a match as it fumbled around in his currently-flimsy hands. After a minute or two of painful silence, the Technician finally managed to pull out a match and light it as he dropped it into the bin, flames consuming the computer. He cleared his throat.

"So…uh…. Heh…. Shall we proceed?" he asked in a rather relaxed tone.

Mr Rabbit rampaged the across the Pacific Ocean, stampeding over 2bn$ destroyer ships which cracked like twigs under his yellow and mouldy bare feet. As he approached California, barely three of Mr Rabbit's nigger footsteps away from Japan, he halted at once and glared at the crowded coastline. He felt something was wrong, something was just not right, he felt an obstacle arising.

Further inland governor Schwarzenegger was teaching the glorious history of the Ze old Germany to a group of young Ary- blond boys dressed in brown uniforms. However it was not long before he was distracted by the horrendous figure in the distance. Mr Schwarzenegger was known for his lack of tolerance… when it came to the discipline of his students of course! His face began to turn purple when two innocent young children turned their backs to him whilst practicing their salute.

"Vat do u zink u ah doink?" he screamed at the top of his voice, "never must ve give your back to our zuperiorz!"

He removed his belt which was tightly wrapped around his waist and prepared to whip the two children who had obediantly unbottoned their pants and exposed their ass cheeks.

After Arnold had finished giving his lecture, he hurriedly marched across the wheat field into his humble mansion.

"Arrrnnyyyy" screeched Mrs Schwarzenegger in heavy Austrian accent, "I have prepared ya an Apfelküchen"

"Oh honey, ya know zat Dr Ronaldo haz ztrrictly forbidden anyzing outside my pillz and pouderz"

Back at the army base, the Technician looked up from where he was wire tapping the conversation.

"Dr Ronaldo?"

"Ah, ummmm, cousin?"

As Arnold rushed into his office he ripped off his shirt. Under his arm a tattoo of a dragon became exposed to those who looked carefully enough. He hastily scrambled for the computer's keyboard, which was hidden under a dense pile of yellow and partially burnt documents, all of which had the same stamp on the upper right corner. As the video call connected with the receiver, Arnold began his usual pre-meeting ritual warm ups: he flexed his bare muscles and his veins twitched as blood struggled to pass through the aged vesicles which by now were packed with the most curious of chemicals. Finally the two video cameras connected, on the screen appeared an image of General Dwight with a bulging bald face, which by now had changed his outfit to suit the occasion; that of course meant wearing as many medals as he could scavenge around the Pentagon (you can imagine of course, not a single inch of his impeccable uniform could be distinguished any longer). On a corner of the room, Dr Ronaldo backed up against the wall and lowered his twitching face as he heard Arnold's voice.

"So Mr Schwarzenegger, as governor of California, you must have already been informed about the suspect heading your way! Am I right?" said Mr Dwight.

"Vat ze fuck do ya mean by SUSPECT" roared Mr Schwarzenegger "zer is a fucking Rabbit ze size of ze Reichstag In front of Zan Franzizco, ve must burnt it down to ashes like ve did to in Germany 33… I mean how ZEY did… not me!" he spoke as he forced a grin on his face.

"Of course Mr Schwarzenegger, we would like to personally ask you to lead a special army of select individual to send this mother f**k back in time!" answered Mr Dwight hastily.

As the general pronounced these words tears of joy drowned Arnold's glimmering eyes. "I ca- ca- ca- cannot believe vat u ar saying" stuttered Mr Schwarzenegger as his tears dropped onto his oversized pectorals. "After zo many yearz of training and studying, i finally get a chanz to lead a real army!" he whispered into his tissue as he blowed his nose. The boogers that collected on the tissue had an artificial pink colour, the colour you would expect from a strawberry protein shake.

"What was that?" asked Mr Dwight suspiciously

"Oooh ya, nazing nazing. I vas jast saying how delighted i vould be to help America overcome zis obstacle which stands before her path to glory and greatness!"

Meanwhilst Rodney dropped his pen onto his yellow note pad, adjusted his glasses - which had been sliding down his crooked sweaty nose, and moistened chapped up lips with his tongue. He rapidly moved across the dark room and announced himself as he shyly commented "Mr Dwight, i don't think this would be the optimum idea."

"Oh shut the fuck up now will you, go back to counting your money and stop annoying us professionals" scowled Mr Dwight "Dr Ronaldo has personally asked me to call this more than capable gentleman to do the job"

Dr Ronaldo giggled under his breath and rubbed his skeletal hands together, "might i suggest a rather…what is the word I'm looking for ?... efficient… ooh ya… efficient solution to some annoying individuals?" he asked with a wide smile across his wrinkled face.

"Oh please do so Dr Ronaldo, I can't stand this scoundrel anymore!" said Mr Dwight with an air of relief.

"It has been proven to work rather well throughout these past few decades!" said Arnold excitedly

"So you know about this method which Dr Ronaldo has suggested? Am I missing something?" said the American general.

"Ohh of course not…" said both Arnold and the doctor in unison.

"Well anyways, what the hell, get the job done doctor, we have a godam rabbit to send back in time" said Mr Dwight carelessly.

"Well, showers are involved" began Dr Ronaldo

Rodney began to sweat heavily and his glasses dropped to the floor as his eye's twitch got worse.

"Showers? Just put him in a dark room till he sweats it out" said Dwight

"Bravissimo!" clapped Arnold as Rodney was reluctantly pushed out of the room.

Mr Schwarzenegger with a wide grin on his face reached for a cupboard to his right and extracted from it a liter large flask filled with a translucent fluid. As he poured this rubbing oil on his bare body, General Dwight gasped in amazement.

"One moment Arny, I think there must be some kind of interference, my camera isn't working properly" he stammered as he deliberately covered the camera with his hand. However the camera wasn't completely covered and the noise, although muffled could still be distinguished. If looked at closely, a small penis the size of a tic tac was being shaken vigorously by some greasy fat hands. Furthermore, the General began whining like a female chihuahua puppy being raped by a black fierce Rottweiler.

His muscles gleaming, veins bulging like a map of the Tube, beaming his crooked grin, Arnold reached for a bandanna emblazoned with the Stars and Stripes, and tied it tightly to his head. Hands like hams laced up black combat boots studded with metal spikes, and a belt was pulled firmly over camouflage plants. Arnold pressed down on the small red button by his desk, and an entire section of wall slid past, revealing a gleaming arsenal of weaponry, rows upon rows of Cold, death machines, enough firepower to make Rambo cream himself. AEK-97s, AKMs, M4A1s, M416s, G18s, Barret 107s, LA80A2s, XM-8s, AK-74s, SCAR-Hs, M16A4s, PPSH-41s, Desert Eagles, Colt Pythons, FN-FALs, XM-25s, RPG-4s, F200s, Scorpion EVOs, MP5Ks, M240s, MP7s, everything. Arnie looked over the display pensively, until his eye fell on one particular weapon. A slow, smile spread across his face, as he clasped the smooth, polished muzzle. It would have been heavy in any other mans hands, but muscles fueled by rage, excitement and enough steroids to put down a elephant let Arnold heft the weapon with childlike ease. An M-134 mini gun was hefted in fists like hams, it's barrel gaping open hungrily. Arnie clipped the belt of ammunition across his chest, and saluted the American flag. In the distance, the Rabbit roared.

Arnie strode across the grass towards the contingent of soldiers sent by the US army, a vision of death and overly macho stereotypes. The soldiers saluted hurriedly as he reached the row of trucks, and tanks.

"Verr eez it?" He rumbled, addressing the soldiers. The nearest one pointed to a small steel box, and Arnie opened the latch, the two clicks ringing out louder than any thunderstorm. Inside was a glass casing, filled with kaleidoscopic energy, lighting crackling against the nebulous haze of purples, blues and poisonous greens. Inside that case, was the raw, untamed energy of time itself. Inside, was the most destructive, unpredictable force known to man. Inside that case, was the only way to stop the gargantuan rabbit currently terrorizing the coast of California.

"Verra well" grunted Arnie. "Lets kill this Rabbit"

"Yes, sir!" Thundered the soldiers, and turned to pour into their vehicles. They were stopped by Arnies massive hand. A look of abject confusion creased his features.

"Sir, what are you?-"

Arnold pushed him back. "Zis is a var of titans. Only I can fight zis Rabbit. He ees mein" he said firmly.

The soldier gulped. "V...very well sir. Whatever your orders"

Arnie jabbed a sausage like finger at a enormous armored tank, weapons bulging obscenely from every surface.

"I take zat vun " he stated simply, loading up the gargantuan mini gun onto the tank. He looked back at the mansion one more time, soaking up the beautiful grounds, the grandiose architecture. The rich scent of Apfelkuchen floated across the air, mingling with the slight tang of Zyklon B. His gaze fell on the American flag waving lazily from its banner. He looked back at the tank

"I tink" he said, slowly as he formed words with more than five syllables. "I tink that dis here tank need zomething more….".

By now Mr Rabbit had already been circled by US forces at Santa Barbara beach. The navy had summoned all of its atomic submarines which formed a semi circle around the ghastly beast. On land the army had surrounded Mr Rabbit with dozens of tanks and pin sized soldiers next to the rabbit. In the skies a slow whir of black bombers became louder and louder until they appeared right above the beach. Ten divisions of paratroopers prepared to jump.

However, what the army didn't know was that Mr Rabbit had his period that very day. His emotions fluctuated from fierce anger to sexual uncontrolled rage. It just happened to be that his unpredictable hormones had forced a terrific erection. The previously shriveled up grayish limb became erect and lifted a tank in the process of doing so.

The penis resembled a 20 meter joystick looking up to the sky. A sinister smile appeared on the rabbit's face. He sat down on the sand with a slump which shook the ground. As he stroked his shiny sword vigorously, heat emitted from the friction caused the palm trees around to catch ablaze. As the moment approached, he clenched his face and his thighs with all his might, groans of pain escaped his crackling jaws. A white viscous goo shot up in the sky and hit a paratrooper plane which crashed into the sea with a muffled splash. Anti aircraft gun continued to shoot down planes, it seemed to have a limitless supply of ammunition. Some of the sexual fluids splashed onto the soldier in the vicinity. Sperm cells, the size of dogs swivelled their long tails as they burrowed through the soldiers armour.

Despite the immense release of dopamine which that pleasure should have caused inside Mr Rabbits messed up body, he didn't seem satisfied. He continued to shake with all his might, this time sand came into the equation. The small grains of solid sand irritated his rugged skin like sand paper.

What was left of the army opened fire once again. The combination of red flesh being exposed on his precious sexual organ and the drumming of bazookas and short range missile pricking his skin caused his nerves to skyrocket. He screamed out, and began tearing up the ground around him, scattering soldiers like dolls, viscera and gore flying through the air. He batted helicopters aside like toys, grabbed tanks and hurled them mightily into the ranks of soldiers trapped by the sticky and unrelenting jizz. The barrage of fire power and hail of bullets slammed into his chest, guns thundering, machine guns chattering, explosions blossoming like red flowers against his skin. But they were all noise and no action, like the guy who brags about utterly destroying that girls pussy, But then when he sticks it in, she asks if it's in yet, but it IS , and then he thrusts three times, moans pathetically and spends himself inside her after thirty seconds, and then has to sit awkwardly and ashamed, as she wipes herself off, rolling her eyes, unsatisfied.

AUTHORS NOTE:

"This sounds familiar, eh?"

"Shut up you prick"

"Thirty seconds? Thirty?"

"Hey, I was thinking about the chick from Stranger Things"

"Ooh, damn"

"Yeah, I'd show her my Demogorgon"

General Dwight was pulling out tufts off his mustache, veins standing out in his neck as his face turned puce, hammering his fist down onto the table.

"What do we do?! What do we DO?!" he howled, at his wits ends. The Rabbit had withstood their every attack, and even worse, half his army was coated in enough jizz to put a Kardashian to shame.

Dr Ronaldo wrung his hands nervously. Normally Rodney would have replied to the corporal, but after the Generals outburst he had been led quietly away to a room by kind people, whilst all sharp objects were industriously concealed.

"I..I'm not sure General. We can only hope that the time displacer works" he stammered hurriedly. General Dwight slumped in his chair and lit another of his massive cigars, put it in backwards, yelped in pain and hurriedly put it out.

"Goddamn, we never should have trusted that fucken Kraut" moaned Dwight. "All they can do is sit around eating strudel and getting drunk" he added vehemently.

Dr Ronaldo bristled slightly, and then his eyes widened. A slow smile formed on his lips. Dwight looked up.

"The hell's the matter now? " he asked wearily.

Dr Ronaldo turned, eyes glittering.

Mr Rabbit stopped, grunting in confusion, his ears twitching as they picked up a new nois. The army also stopped. Everyone could hear it. It would have been impossible not to. The sound of Credence Clearwaters Revivals "Fortunate Son" boned out across the beach, so loud that bird fell from the sky, screeching, windows rattled in their buildings, pebbles and tables shifting under the vibrations. Over the crest of the horizon, a tank thundered into view, trailing clouds of dust.

"Some folks are born, raised to wave a flag"

The Star Spangled Banner trailed from behind the tank,snapping in the wind, a ark of victory of pride. Arnold Schwarzenegger stood proudly on top of the tank in all his muscled,oiled glory, clutching his minigun, his pectorals sprayed with the colours of the glorious USA

"Oooh, they're red white and blue"

The tank stopped, looking out towards the beach. Turrets of machine guns clucked menacingly in Mr Rabbits directions, weapon sistema were prime. A loud clunk was heard as a explosive shell was loaded and the barrel of the tank slid to stare out at the rabbit

"And if you sing, hail to the chief, ooh they'll point their weapon at you"

Two boom boxes of jaw dropping size were thundering out the song, the music rolling across the waves. The army turned in shock, and ran, putting themselves behind the cover of this glorious man, War made incarnate.

Mr Rabbit grunted, and bunched up his fists. He stared at Arnie, who held his gaze. The Austrian reached into his pockets and fished out a pair of tinted sunglasses, black as midnight itself, which he placed over his eyes. The flames danced and capered on. Their surface. A cha chunk that would freeze the blood sounded out as he prepared his weapon. He grinned crookedly.

"Prepare to be Terminated" he said

Back at the army base, Dwight clapped his hands together gleefully, like a little kid.

"He said the thing!" He giggled. "He said the thing from the movie!"

Mr Rabbit surged forward, but Arnie was already opening fire, the barrels of his minigun whirling viciously as they spat out a steady stream of lead, bullets chewing up the sand as they slammed against his chest. The tank opened fire as well, guns roaring, shells screaming through the air as they flew towards the Rabbit. Mr Rabbit swatted the bullets aside, and Arnie dug his heels into the tank, the recoil pushing him back steadily, muscles bulging as he gripped the weapon. With a click, click, click, the ammunition ran out, the barrels whirring to a stop. Mr Rabbit screamed in triumph as he hurled a car at the tank, but Arnie was already vaulting out the way, the tank exploding behind him, sending white hot shrapnel raining through the air. Arnie landed neatly in a combat roll, brushing aside the destruction of the tank in a shoe of toughness and casual disregard for human life. He whipped out two colt pythons, slamming the bullets into Mr Rabbits eyes, who staggered back, blinded. Arnie continued to run forward, firing continuously, leaping from car to car as they were thrown at him, flipping and somersaulting his way steadily towards the monstrosity. As the ammunition ran dryer than a African towns well, Arnie threw the guns aside, as he was tossed a Punisher grenade launcher, raising its beetle black iron sights to his eye, and firing sixteen practiced shots neatly into Mr Rabbits gaping jaws. Mr Rabbit gave a strangled choke, as he swallowed more loads than Riley Reid on a busy work day.

Arnie laughed triumphantly as Mr Rabbits throat bulged obscenely, the explosions tearing his flesh from the inside. Then his eyes widened, and he grabbed a nearby car door just in time, as a stream of baby batter slammed into it, tearing furrows through the sand. Arnie was knocked back, and rolled aside as a enormous fist slammed mere centimeter next to him, only to jerk back in surprise as a Bowie knife was buried into the soft fur.

Arnie leaped onto a nearby shingle, pulling two assault rifles from his back and firing them, howling animalistically. Bullet casings tinkled against the floor, the smell of burning gunpowder permeated the air, explosions thundered in a display that would have been too much even for Michael Bay.

There was a shrill scream in the distance, and Arnie ran to investigate. A woman was trapped behind the smoking wreckage of a Volvo. As this kind of action scenario dictates, she was extremely attractive, her clothes torn and ripped in a oddly aesthetic way that highlighted her curves, and covered in smoke and ash inexplicably accentuated and failed to mess her makeup.

She was clearly terrified, doe like eyes wide, panting nervously, her ample chest rising and falling with every breath

"Technician! Stop screening in on that woman's breasts!"

"Fiiiiiiiiiiine"

"Please.." gasped the woman. "Please, help us".

Arnie set his jaw, steeling himself. Rage burned behind his eyes. He had to stop that rabbit. He had to. For the good of the people, of suffering women like this one. But it was too strong. Even now it stomped around, revelling in destruction, despite having taken more bullets than a Chinese citizen in Tiananmen square. There was no other choice. Arnie sighed, furrowing his brow.

He would have to use Operation Lance Armstrong.

He stuck his fingers in his mouth, emitting a whistle that would have melted earwax. After a short while, a package dropped from one of the helicopters in the air. Inside was a enormous syringe, bubbling with green liquid. Arnie grabbed the syringe, lining it up to his writhing veins. He plunged down.

The liquid coursed through his veins like white fire, and Arnie groaned and doubled over. His muscles popped and grew, his strength doubling, tripling, his body growing exponentially as the chemicals took effect. When next he rose, he stood like a titan, arms bulging as if stuffed with cannonballs, and on more steroids than the Russian Olympic team.

One hand grasped a assault rifle. Fingers like sausages strapped a RPG to his back. The other hand held the case, in which was encased the time weapon.

As Arnie fired the RPG. The rocket impacted the Rabbits right testicles. The testicle despite protected by a rough hairy surface and bulging red spots packed with puss was still severely damage. The rage in his eyes turned to agony, as he fell to the floor with his knees pressing against each other. The Rabbit driven by pure anger and frustration grabbed what was left of his phallic organs and tore them off with all his might. The pain had been cut at its roots, this meant no more irritated penis, no more dangling mushy testicles. Mr Rabbits hairy hands were drenched in blood and sexual fluids by now, he attempted to purify his bloody body with the salty sea water behind him. As he splashed water over himself the salt irritated his flesh and he bellowed a scream so loud that the bombing at Aleppo would have sounded like a twelve year old girl birthday party. (Oooooh, sexyyyy). The sea was flooded by the Rabbits toxic blood and a blanket of red fluid covered all the visible surface of the ocean visible from the beach. Arnie pulled a grin on his face as he enjoyed both the Rabbits pain and the future idea of being able to swim in such wonderful waters.

As Mr Rabbit floundered in the sea, Arnie charged foreword. He raised the RPG, the projectile taking off into the distance as it thudded into the gaping, raw wound of Mr Rabbits testicles. The Rabbit doubled over, overcome with agony to rival that of when your crush leaves you on read in WhatsApp. Arnold leaped into the air, sand shooting out beneath him, his fists colliding into the sides of Mr Rabbit's head so hard, that the subsequent shockwave blew out all the waves in the vicinity. Mr Rabbit staggered backwards, as Arnie rained down blow after blow into his body, caving in ribs, shattering bones, and causing havoc in his body. Mr Rabbit flailed in confusion and terror, a stray hit sending Arnie flying, though he neatly pulled off a flip and landed on the heels of his feet.

They stared at each other, Arnie panting with bloodlust, Mr Rabbit with pain. Mr Rabbit threw out his arms and screamed, his foul breath tearing Palm trees from the ground. Arnie jumped to meet him, holding the time weapon, as Mr Rabbit sprang through the air.

They were face to face. He could see the Rabbits green eyes, his pockmarked and ravaged fur. They hung in the air, about to meet, two titans. The weapon whirred in Arnies hands. Time seemed to stand still. Time. Time. Time.

They met in a flash of purple energy, crackling with white electricity, a whirlwind that sucked up all nearby objects. The air was filled with the tang of ozone. And then..and then...nothing.

Arnie fell through the air, landing in the hollow crater where Mr Rabbit had once been. He looked around, dazed, his head hammering. All around him were flames, wreckage ruin. But the Rabbit was gone, disappeared. The threat had been averted. They were safe. They were...safe. Arnie fell back onto the sand with a satisfied sigh, and began to laugh.

Back at the military base, the party was raging, in full flow. The sounds of whoops and cheers rang out, as soldiers hugged and danced, shooting confetti into the air and getting drunker than An Irish father of two. The drink flowed freely, as did the foot, people sobbing with joy and dancing wildly. General Dwight sat back with the satisfied expression of a job well done, smoking a cigar. Some soldiers were playing games, others were hugging, whilst the more shrewd members had made use of the large piles of heroin "confiscated" from Afghanistan. The Technician was playing Daft Punk at full volume, bopping to the beat, but all alone. No one would shake the Technicians hand, as there was the very real risk of becoming pregnant from the residue alone. Dwight unhooked the phone and began to relay the news to the President and the world. All around the globe, crowds took to the streets rejoicing, parading and cajoling in masses. The Rabbit had been defeated, the Rabbit was gone!

Dwight rubbed his hands together. Now the threat was gone, they could focus on the real problems. He immediately began ordering the armies of the US to focus on taking Egypt which was in dire need to be liberated from terrorists, and its thirteen thousand tons of oil of course.

Alone in his lab, Dr Ronaldo sighed. Yes, the Rabbit was gone. Yes, his weapon had worked. But the time weapon was gone now, never to be used again. He could never go back in time now. As Dr Ronaldo took out the faded SS armband under his desk and looked at it wistfully, he wondered why bad things happened to good people.

And all the while, Mr Rabbit fell through the folds of time itself.

It was like a drug trip those hippies, begging to be burned go on. Colours flowed into his demonic eyes, the speed at which is putrefact body was moving at forced full chunks of green/red flesh to fly off with a gush of blood. It was when he had been reduced back to his insignificant size that he began to see visions all around him in the tunnel of time. Plentiful scenes of rape, those clowns again ganging up on another six year old boy, grandfathers whipping their children with a full latex suit and a gimp mask on. Horrifying scenes of people acknowledging vegans, transsexuals and communists as human beings. The technician was there too! With an extreme lack of clothing and a remarkably strong grip on his sausage for a man of his strength. And possible paths History could've taken like Hitler having won WW2 which brought tears to Mr Rabbits eyes as he softly held the shadow on his fur where his red arm band used to be.

Authors note: "Hey, hey, heyeheyeheyeye. Remember when he called in the Luftwaffe to drop cocaine on a village? Spoiler alert: it won't be the last! Tee hee :)"

I..I think we've milked the Nazi thing more than a prize cow

Yeah, but those who are still reading don't care.

Then all of a sudden, Mr Rabbit felt a sudden stop, the colours were fading to a light, baby-blue with white smudges spread around like strokes of paint across a canvas and the wonderful visions of the Jewish race finally being reduced to zero disappeared like the wet dream that finishes right before you put your hot dog in her cave (One day, oh Jennifer Lawrence. One day) He fell, Mr Rabbit still dazed barely felt it and it took him a couple of seconds before realising he was falling onto a enormous palace, built on the cusp of a verdant hill. It was an obscene thing, all marbled pillars, plated with gold, gilt on every surface. Plush carpets of velvet snaked across the floors, alabaster busts, oil paintings depicting old generals charging Into battle, jeweled swords on the walls, lush plants, and gold, oh so much gold, enough to put off even Donald Trump's Interior decorator.

Before long, the rabbit crashed through the roof somehow managing not to break every single bone in his brittle body and landed with a squash on something hard and soft. His ears buzzing, head ringing like a gong. He rose shaking to his feet. There was a wet squelch, and he looked down. At his feet was a twitching body. A small man, clad in a military uniform studded with golden buttons, laden with hundreds of glittering medals, a sash of red across his chest was writhing in agony, his body crushed and mangled by Mr Rabbits landing. Feet clothed in slim black boots drummed against the ground, and a tanned, Latin face, framed by a spectacular oiled mustache was slowly going white. The man, his eyes bulging, looked at Mr Rabbit, tried to speak, and with a thin rattle, died.

Mr Rabbit looked around in confusion, but before he could speak, the sounds of shouting and running reached his ears, as the mahogany doors nearest to him were thrown back. Two squat men ran in, similarly clothed in military uniform, pistols in hand. They stopped dead in the middle of the room as they saw the corpse, mouths opening and closing soundlessly. Mr Rabbit shuffled his feet sheepishly.

After a short while, the first man spoke, pointing a trembling finger at the dead man.

"E-el Generalissimo!" He exclaimed. "He is dead!"

"Impossible, Fernández!" cried the second man. "That little shit has survived every assassination attempt!"

"No seas gilipollas, Martin!" Chided the second man. "He's fucking dead!"

Martin clasped his hat to his chest in the time honored "Mexican bandidos have taken our village" pose.

"It is true. The Generalissimo is dead. This is a sad day for Bolivaria" said Martin, shaking his head solemnly.

"What are you talking about? He was a absolute cunt!"

"I know, but you have to keep up appearances"

Fernández walked over to the Generalísimos corpse, and poked it gingerly with his boot. Then, just to make sure, he quickly fired six shots into his body, and with a satisfied nod, slid the pistol back into the holster. He wiped his brow.

"Madre De Dios. He's finally gone"

"I know! Ugh, five years of taking la mierda of that cabron!"

"With the cigars, and las putas, and the heroin, and the cocaine.."

"Hey, that wasn't that bad"

"Si, lo sé, but he could have at least shared some"

"And do you remember all the executions?" exclaimed Martin

"Dios mío! All those peasants, brutally slaughtered!"

"Ya, ya, and it was such a bitch to wash the blood out of the uniform"

"Oh, and nothing worse than when we had to stand outside his door like gilipollas, waiting for him to finish screwing his mamasitas!"

Fernández made a scornful noise. "Te entiendo hermano. Most boring two minutes of my life".

"And do you remember how corrupt that malparido was? Disgusting!"

There was a awkward silence as Martin realized what he had said, and slowly pushed the hem of his sleeve over his diamond encrusted Rolex. Fernandez coughed dryly, slipping the emerald the size of an egg that hung on a chain around his neck beneath his shirt.

"What matters is that he's dead", said Martin hurriedly.

"Eso sí, you're right"

The two Latinos then directed their attention towards the small white bunny that stared up at them with the big black eyes which seemed to pry into deepest recesses of their souls.

"Aw what a cute conejito!"

"He has blood splattered all over him, what's wrong with you, pendejo?"

"Just look at his eyes!"

"They're way too big and creepy"

"Que dices? He's adorable!"

"Pero, what is he doing next to el Generalissimo?"

Fernández smiled sleazily, his eyes misting over with the faint images of Brazilian curves. "Bueno, Martin, you know how much he loved conejo, eh?" He leered.

Martin shrugged. "You can give el malparido that, he sure hired the best zorras in town".

"Anda que si! I still think about that Argentinian one, with the tanga" he whistled "muy picante!"

"Pity we had to shoot them in the mass graves afterward"

"It's a living, hermano".

"At least they stopped resisting once I filled her head with plomo"

"That, brother, is also true!"

"Although, he thought that removing their arms was another good solution"

"But that way all they can do is a cubana"

"So?"

"What if they have small pechos?"

"They do it with their feet, es obvio!"

"You seem to have a pretty good idea of the way a disabled woman can please you."

"..." There was an awkward silence from Martin as a shuffled his feet around, eyes glued to the ground.

"You disgust me"

"What?! She was the prettiest one"

"PERO SI NO TENIA BRAZOS, PENDEJO"

"There was no other left!"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE WAS NO OTHER LEFT?!"

"WE KILL EVERY PROSTITUTE WE USE!"

"Ah, cierto"

"Get off my ass already"

"I fucking hated that man, he forced us to do really weird things-

Anticipating the words that would leave the sick latino next, Mr Rabbit stopped mauling the dead man's corpse and turned his attention to the two halfwits at his side

"Ooooh, that must've been fun, tell me what was it like?" As soon as the guards noticed that the only other living animal in the room other than them was a rabbit, they jerked back with a sudden gasp, eyes wider than the plates, unable to speak, stunned.

"AY SANTO DIOS DE LA MADRE HERMOSA, JESUCRISTO NACIDO EN BETHLEHEM DE LA VIRGEN MADRE, QUE VINISTE A NUESTRA GUARDIA EN LA HORA DE DEBILIDAD SALVA NUESTRAS ALMAS DEL DEMONIO QUE APARECE ANTE NOSOTROS, PERDONAME POR TODAS MIS OFENSAS, PERDONAME SEÑOR Y SÁLVAME. PADRE NUESTRO, QUE ESTÁS EN EL SANTÍSIMO CIELO PERDÓNANOS AYYYYYYYYYYYYY" cried Fernando, staggering backwards, clasping his hands as he collapsed to the ground on his

Knees.

But before Mr Rabbit and the South American generals could do anything, a enormous gash opened up in the middle of the room, a gaping maw into time and space itself. Mr Rabbit had meddled many times with the fickle winds of time in the past, and now those winds were stirred into a gale, and had caught up with him. Screaming as the wormhole began to tug inexorably at him, his nails digging into the floor harder than your mums nails digging into my back last night, shavings of wood peeling under his fingers, he was pulled into the wormhole, shrieking in terror, the portal yawning hungrily. With one last twitch of his ears, Mr Rabbit vanished, and then the portal winked out of existence, closing with a sucking noise to put a back alley prostitute to shame.

The Generals looked at the space where the rabbit had once been, bewildered, only for a faded red arm band to fall pathetically to the ground.

Mr Rabbit looked around his surroundings, dazed and confused. All around him was a silkily, midnight blackness, like satin sheets, whirls of purple, violet, azure and gold curling around the cosmic night, silver stars burning brightly as they scattered around the tableau. There was a faint ticking noise, ever so prevalent, tick, tick, tick, thousands upon hundreds of clocks chipping away at history and time, their chimes sounding out towards infinity. Mr Rabbit took a step forward, the sound booming out across the cosmos. Then he saw the turtle.

The turtle was of enormous size, a gargantuan beast, easily ten times larger than Mr Rabbit itself. It's shell gleamed like purest jade, twinkling in the starlight, a might carapace to rival that of the purest jewel. It's skin could have been burnished bronze, wrinkled like old parchment but tough as leather and shining softly like buffed brass. The turtle turned its enormous neck, a beard as pure as snow and soft as cotton streaming from its wrinkled and puckered chin. It craned forward, squinting at Mr Rabbit.

I am the turtle of time. They have called me many names. Chud. A'Tuin. Chelonia. I guard the cosmos forevermore, until the end of time itself. Who are you? asked the turtle, though he did not speak. It's voice rang out like a gong inside Mr Rabbits head.

"I...I am Mr Rabbit," he stammered. "I too go by many names. Cuniculus, Rabbit, Inmate 2476, Rapey Dave."

Hmmm said the turtle, ponderously, shaking his head slowly, beard cascading like a waterfall. Rabbit you may be, but I see only one thing

The turtle of times onyx black eyes were level with Mr Rabbit now, piercing his very soul. Mr Rabbit shivered, wondering what those eyes saw, what secrets they stripped away, what lies they uncovered. The cosmos held their breath, the stars watching on with breathless anticipation.

You have a tight little ass leered the turtle. Mr Rabbit froze.

"Wait-what?" He squeaked, but the Turtle was already moving, with a sound like a landslide, bringing down one horned and calloused foot to pin Mr Rabbit down.

Mr Rabbit screamed in terror, writhing uselessly under the Turtles bulk.

Oh come on chuckled the Turtle, don't be such a hot little tease. We have all of time to get to love each other

The Turtle extended its monstrous wang, easily seven times it's own size, bulbous and thick as a bus, and slowly lowered himself down. Mr Rabbit shrieked in agony as he felt his butt be torn apart by the big ass dick, flopping in panic, as the Turtle with painfully slow movements began to thrust slowly, ever so slowly, each movement as slow as a glacier, its joints creaking and groaning.

A hundred years passed. Then a thousand. Then six thousand. An aeon. By this time poor Mr Rabbits anus was like the Grand Canyon, yet still the Turtle ploughed on, occasionally moaning or chuckling to itself. Then suddenly, with a strangled grunt, the Turtle came, eyes rolling back in his head as he released a ocean of jizz into Mr Rabbit, whose organs were practically churned and rearranged by now, glazing the rabbit like a Krispy Kreme donut.

Mr Rabbit almost wept with relief, but as he went to raise himself up, his legs like jelly, there was a sound like a VHS tape being wound back, time moving and zipping back into the past, the clocks hand shoving backwards.

And then he was once again pinned under the monstrous Turtle, as it began to push its dick into his ass once more.

I told you chuckled the Time Turtle, grunting slightly as he entered fully.

You're with me….forever

Mr Rabbit screamed

Now pull your eyes away from the astral landscape, the cosmos glittering like jewels. Move away from the ever ticking clocks, the planets and galaxies whirling past as if in dance. Pull your gaze away from the struggling Rabbit, from the moans and groans and chuckles of the Turtle as it ploughing and nuts again and again and again….for eternity.

By now you have reached a point of no return. Don't expect to fit back into society as you did before, accept the fact that this book has changed the course of your life. For the better or the worse, that is up to you.

The End.

Written by Three Really Messed Up Guys


End file.
